The real reason your chair is empty

Imagine you’re not a dentist. You’re just a tiny fly on the wall in a busy coffee shop. You overhear two customers, Tom and Dave, talking about their dental experiences. And guess what? They’re actually talking about you.

Tom: You been to the dentist lately?

Dave: The dentist? I haven’t seen a dentist in, what, two years? Maybe three?

Tom: Three years? What are you, living on the edge?

Dave: Oh, I’d love to go! I want to go! But it’s impossible! It’s like trying to get a reservation at some exclusive restaurant. You call, you wait, you listen to smooth jazz for 15 minutes, and then, “We can fit you in...four months from now!”

Tom: Yeah, I never get that. It’s a cleaning, not a table at a Michelin-starred restaurant. Why is it so hard to book?

Dave: I’ll tell you why. No online booking! It’s 2025! You know what I did last night? I ordered groceries, watched a live concert from Tokyo, joined a cult, and signed up for a class on making sushi. All from my couch! But if I want to book a dentist appointment? “Please call us during regular business hours.”

Tom: Business hours? Who’s got business hours anymore? My insomnia’s got me shopping at 3 a.m. sometimes! But dentists? Nope! Gotta catch them between 9 and 5.

Dave: And when you do get through, they’ve got that receptionist sounding like she’s protecting the Queen. “What’s the reason for your visit?” I don’t know, my tooth hurts! I wasn’t calling to chat!

Tom: So you finally get in...what happens?

Dave: Oh, then it’s a whole other nightmare. I get there, and it’s like stepping into 1994. The computer is the size of a microwave, and the paperwork? They hand me a clipboard. A clipboard!

Tom: A clipboard?

Dave: I’m filling out the same form I’ve filled out for the last 10 years! “Do you have any allergies?” Yeah! I’m allergic to paperwork! I ask them, “Why can’t I just do this online?” They look at me like I asked them to perform brain surgery.

Tom: You know what else gets me? No reviews. None. I try to find out if this guy’s good, if he’s a butcher, if he’s got hands like a gorilla, I get nothing! Maybe two reviews from 2017 and one from someone named “Anonymous” who just wrote, “It was fine.”

Dave: Fine? You’re gonna drill into my skull, and all I get is “fine”? I’m not buying a toaster! I need details! I want photos, before-and-afters, I want to see the guy talking! Explain to me what a root canal is! I’m not signing up for a mystery adventure!

Tom: And the websites! Have you seen these websites? It’s always that same stock photo of the happy family with the perfect teeth, all lined up and smiling like they’re auditioning for a toothpaste commercial.

Dave: Oh, the stock photos! I’m convinced those people don’t even exist! I want to see real patients! Show me the guy who came in looking like he chewed rocks for breakfast and left with teeth that don’t frighten children!

Tom: Yeah, you get the feeling half these dentists are ghosts. No videos, no social media, nothing. How do I even know you’re real?

Dave: Exactly! If you’re a dentist and I can’t find you on Instagram, Facebook, or Google, you might as well be a myth. I want to see what you’re doing! Post a video, explain what the hell a “deep cleaning” actually is. I mean, what is that? Are they sending divers down there?

Tom: It does sound like they’re going on an expedition.

Dave: And then...then, they send you one text. One sad little reminder the day before. “Appt. tomorrow @ 3. Thx.” That’s it?! You’re about to put me in a chair, tilt me back, and jab me with metal hooks, and all I get is, “Thx?”

Tom: They don’t want to be pushy, I guess.

Dave: Pushy?! Amazon sends me eight emails just because I looked at a pair of socks! Socks! And these guys are drilling into my jawbone and can’t be bothered to follow up more than once? How about a reminder a week before? Two days before? An hour before? I forget! People forget!

Tom: You’d think they’d want you to show up...it’s kind of their business model.

Dave: That’s what I’m saying! And you know what? If they just did those things, online booking, real reviews, some actual communication, people would go! I’d go! But instead, it’s like they’re running a secret society.

Tom: So what’s the solution? You gonna start your own practice?

Dave: I’m telling you, I’m this close. I’m getting the chair, the little bibs, the whole thing. My slogan? “We actually let you book online!” The place would be packed!

(They both laugh, the waitress comes by with the check, and the conversation shifts back to bagels and bad movies, but the frustration lingers, like that one filling that never sits quite right.)